


Make Light

by prizewinningfruitcake



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anxiety, Character Study, Developing Relationship, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:18:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prizewinningfruitcake/pseuds/prizewinningfruitcake
Summary: Hawke is a nervous laugher, and Fenris makes him nervous





	Make Light

Hawke laughs at the worst times. Bad things make Hawke laugh, tense moments like when someone gets upset, or tells him something very personal. It’s always been this way.

He can’t stop it; it bubbles out of him like the voice of a demon bent on getting his mother to slap him, or his brother to slam the door so hard it falls off its hinges - which, in turn, causes his mother to slap him because that was _his_ fault.

The harder he tries to hold it in, the harder it comes out, the louder, the stupider. And he can’t predict it. It makes itself impossible to explain.

He didn’t laugh at his father’s funeral. He worried he might.

He did laugh when Carver and Gamlen nearly came to blows in the middle of the street once. He said, “Just kiss already,” or something stupid like that because by now he’s learned to give himself a reason.

If he makes a joke, then it makes sense. He’s an ass, arrogant, desperate for attention, for people to look at him. It’s expected of him, so that’s what he does, even if he doesn’t want it anymore.

Fenris doesn’t look at him while he talks. He looks into the fire, and Hawke sits on the floor listening.

Fenris makes Hawke laugh, genuinely. He’s funny, quietly clever most of the time, but occasionally outright goofy, and Hawke loves that he’s allowed to see that, like he’s been let in on a secret.

He’s nervous, sitting there listening to Fenris talk, because he’s telling him something that came with a preface. “I haven’t told you,” he said, his eyebrows knitted, and Hawke felt it filling up his lungs.

Being nervous doesn’t help. He knows that, and that makes him more nervous.

“I don’t-” He pauses, shakes his head, and Hawke bites the inside of his cheek. “I don’t remember. Anything.” He looks at him, and Hawke looks away. “From before I was a slave.”

“I- Oh,” is all Hawke can manage. He’s wondered why he never talked about that, but he didn’t know how to ask.

He didn’t know how to ask without _this_ happening. It’s lodged there in his throat, waiting.

Fenris tells him that his first memories are of pain and of terror, that anything he had from before was erased. His family, his childhood, his _name_ , all gone.

He tells him that he doesn’t know if it was intentional or not, but that seems fairly obvious to Hawke. People are obedient when they have nothing to fight for, when they have nothing. That’s what he would do if he were to-

Maker, that’s a terrible line of thought. This is bad. It’s building up inside him, in his chest. Fenris looks at him, and he looks away - up, because there are tears in his eyes, and he’s going to laugh. He can’t help it. He can’t stop picturing him hurting and all alone, and he wants to hug him, to hold him, he wants to-

He laughs, sputters, into his hand.

He stares at the floor between his legs, willing his shoulders to stop shaking. The impulse to make a joke is there, but his head is empty, so all he says is, “Fuck.”

And Fenris laughs too, quietly, absurdly.

Hawke wipes under his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I’m- I’m sorry. Fuck, that’s- I’m sorry.”

Fenris waves him off. “It must sound… strange.”

“It sounds…” He gives up. Words have failed him.

Fenris says, “I’ve never told anyone.”

“Never?”

“No. Who would I tell?” He smiles a little, a puzzled little smirk. 

Hawke laughs again. _Why is he such an ass?_

“I’m sorry. I don’t-”

“Don’t apologize,” Fenris says. “I wasn’t certain what to expect, but making light is better than- better than…”

“Making dark?” Hawke offers.

Fenris thinks about that.

“No. I think light and dark need one another.” He nods, decisive. “It’s better than pity.”

Fenris tells Hawke before he leaves that he’s glad he told him. Hawke is glad too, and he says so. Hawke tells him about all the times he’s laughed at things he’s not supposed to. Not all of them, but a few. He saves the rest for later.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Fenris says. “It’s honest.”

At least that part of him is.

“If you want, I think I could help you with some of your problems,” Hawke says, and then, “or give you a few more.”

Fenris gives him a smile full of secrets. “Only a few?”

**Author's Note:**

> I originally posted this on [my Tumblr](https://gothkimmyschmidt.tumblr.com/), where you can come find me if you wanna read things I write that are too short for Ao3


End file.
